She handed him the cold bottle of beer. ‘Chasing ghosts, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘The trail went cold on me.’
Cosima’s smile faded a little. ‘Well,’ she said finally, ‘at least we know who it’s not.’
Arlo rolled his eyes. ‘Wait until she tells you who she’s best buddies with now.’
‘Who?’
Cosima flushed. ‘Not best buddies, we’ve just reached a détente, is all.’ She looked at Jack. ‘Naveen Chowdry.’
Jack gulped a mouthful wine awkwardly. ‘What the actual hell?’ He looked at Arlo, who shrugged.
Cosima looked annoyed. ‘Why do you look at Arlo as if he ‘allowed’ it to happen? I choose who I talk to, both of you. And it was nice. We talked, he apologized, and he’s trying to make amends.’
‘Trying?’ Arlo spoke up, ‘as in you’re still talking to him?’
‘I refer to my earlier comments,’ Cosima said snippily but then sighed. ‘Look, this was supposed to be a happy occasion so let’s forget Nav, and concentrate on getting the gossip from Jack.’
The men nodded in agreement and Cosima relaxed. The lamb pasanda was a big hit and even though they all tried, they couldn’t finish it all. Jack and Arlo sat back in their seats and groaned. Cosima looked at the leftovers. ‘You think I made too much?’
Arlo chuckled and kissed her cheek. ‘Maybe, baby. I’ll clear it up.’
She waved her hands. ‘Later, later. Jack, come let’s go crash on the couch and chat. Will you stay, we have the room?’
Jack smiled. ‘No, thanks, I have a room at a pretty swanky hotel downtown. Managed to get the agency to pay for it too.’
‘Nicely done.’
They sat in the living room talking, Cosima curled into the crook of Arlo’s arm.
‘So, what’s next for you two now this place has finished?’ Jack smiled at the both of them, gesturing around the beautiful apartment.
Cosima grinned up at Arlo, who nodded. ‘We’re thinking of going to San Francisco for a while, to find a new build there.’
‘You’re working together again?’
Cosima nodded. ‘Through my company, of course, Arlo has very generously negotiated a contract with Tal, which means I get to work exclusively with Arlo, wherever he wants. So we decided to go to Frisco, as Arlo’s friends and family are there.’
‘Wow…that’s great.’ But Jack didn’t look happy, and Cosima frowned.
‘What is it, Jack?’
He shook his head. ‘No, nothing. I just…you’re safe here; this place is like a fortress now. But look, ignore me, I’m too used to policing where you go, I’m sorry, it’s a hard habit to break. Seriously, that does sound great.’
Later, when Jack had left, promising not be late for the opening the next night, Cosima was wrapping the leftovers in tin foil and stacking the dishes in the washer when Arlo, finishing a business call, came back into the kitchen.
‘Jack wasn’t keen on us moving, huh?’
Cosima hid a smile. She knew this tone of his – he wanted to know what she really thought about the move, not Jack. She kissed Arlo’s cheek. ‘It’s no longer any of his concern. I can’t wait to see the Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz…but most importantly, I want to meet Margaret.’
‘I just spoke to her actually.’ His tone had changed, and she looked up to see him studying her, his brow furrowed.
‘What? What is it?’
Arlo sighed. ‘A reporter called Margaret. Apparently your mother – ‘
‘Oh god, what has that viper done now?’ Cosima’s whole body wilted in defeat, and Arlo put his arms around her.
‘Apparently, she’s been giving interviews to some tabloid rag – and said some pretty inflammatory things. At least that’s what the reporter said. Seems this journalist has some morals and wants to talk to us about them before the story goes to print. In the morning.’
Cosima glanced at the clock. It was past ten at night. ‘She didn’t leave us much time, did she? Does she want you to call her tonight?’
Arlo hesitated. ‘Not me. You.’
Cosima stared at him. ‘What?’
‘She says she’ll only talk to you.’
Cosima sighed and reached for her phone.
***
Naveen Chowdry walked slowly back to his hotel. It was time to leave New Orleans, he figured. His relationship with Cosima was – if not mended – then resolved enough that he could leave now. Except…he felt responsible. Whoever had taken Cosima was still out there.
And then there was Sabine Karlsson. Despite himself, despite seeing her for the gold-digging Machiavellian creature she was, he still felt drawn to her. When they were in bed together, after her usual, initial wildcat thing was done, he saw the real woman underneath, vulnerable and soft.
Who are you kidding? Sabine hired someone to attack Cosima with a knife – soft? Vulnerable? Still…he pulled out his phone and called her. She was surprised and nonplussed to hear from him but invited him to her hotel room.
‘You just caught me,’ she purred, ‘tomorrow I leave for Geneva.’
Naveen grinned to himself. A likely story if Arlo had cut her off. ‘I’ll be there in five minutes.’
***
In the car across the street, he watched the handsome Indian change direction and walk back down to the Quarter. Now the news had been reporting that the Malhotra girls were safe from their father’s enemies, was this dude still a threat? No way. But he could be a useful scapegoat…
The watcher started the car and moved off. Soon, he thought, soon…
***
Cosima said goodbye to the woman, Bree, the journalist, and slowly put her phone down on the table. She was trembling and wide-eyed. Arlo waited patiently.
‘That evil, fucking bitch,’ Cosima said, slowly, ‘that low-life, dirty, bottom-dwelling whore…’
Arlo looked alarmed as Cosima stood, obviously looking for something to throw. ‘Hey, hey, hey…’
He locked his arms around her, but she shook them off. ‘Don’t touch me right now, Arlo, I’m too angry.’
He let her go, half concerned, half-amused. ‘Just tell me.’
Cosima paced some more then sat down. ‘That venal bitch who calls herself our mother? Did an interview where she basically told the world I’m a cold-hearted bitch who deserved what she got. That’s not the bad stuff.’
‘It isn’t?’ Arlo felt his temper flare. ‘Cos, I gotta tell you, that sounds bad.’
Suddenly Cosima looked bleak and her eyes filled with tears. ‘Arlo…she said Harpa isn’t my father’s daughter. She told that interviewer that she had an affair after I was born, when I was about eighteen months, she found she was pregnant. My father knew and decided to raise Harpa as his own. Jesus…this could all be bullshit, of course, except…’
‘Except?’
‘There was something, one, my dad said to Harpa and I overheard and thought it was a weird thing to say to a kid.’
‘What was it?’ He reached for her as tears dropped down her cheeks.
‘He said, Blood isn’t a bond, love is a bond. Oh, God, Arlo, what the hell am I going to tell Harpa?’
***
Harpa woke to hear Mikah talking on the phone in the living room. Throwing his t-shirt over her body, she padded into see him standing at the window, talking on his cell phone in a low voice. His body was taut, racked with tension. Harpa glanced at the clock – just after one a.m. Who the hell was he talking to this late? A little jolt of jealousy flashed through her, but she swatted the thought away.
She was about to go back to bed when he turned and caught sight of her. His eyes were wary, but he beckoned her over.
‘Yeah, she’s awake now. Talk to her.’
He handed his phone to Harpa. ‘It’s Cosima.
Harpa was shocked. What was going on? She took the phone. ‘Cos?’
‘Hey, Bubba.’ Her sister sounded tired and upset.
‘Are you okay, Cos? Is Arlo okay?’
‘Yeah we’re bot
h fine, Harp, don’t worry. Listen…I have something to tell you and ordinarily I would want to tell you this in person, but we don’t have any time left.’
Harpa’s heart began to thud uncomfortable, and her legs trembled. She sat down on the couch with a bump. Mikah put his arm around her. ‘Just say it, Cos, please, you’re scaring me.’
Cosima drew in a long breath. ‘Harp, Mom’s done an interview, trashing me. Now, that I can deal with. It’s what she said about you…Harp…she said that…oh god.’ Her sister’s voice cracked and Harpa’s eyes filled with tears.
‘What?’
‘She says that Dad….wasn’t your biological father.’ Cosima rushed the end of the sentence then gave a sob. Harpa, numb, heard Arlo’s voice, comforting her sister then taking the phone. ‘Harpa?’
‘Arlo, what the fuck…?’ Her voice was barely a whisper.
‘I’m so sorry, Harpa. We had to tell you because the magazine will be out in the morning and we didn’t want you to find out like that.’
‘But she’s lying, Mom’s lying, right?’ Bewilderment had set in, and Harpa couldn’t stop shaking her head. No. No. It wasn’t true.
Cosima came back on the line. ‘I’m so sorry, Harp.’
‘Tell me it isn’t true.’
There was a long silence then, in a broken whisper, her sister said, ‘I can’t. I just don’t know for sure, Harpa. All I know is you’re my sister, and I love you. We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise.’
Not knowing what to say, Harpa ended the call abruptly and walked out of the living room.
Mikah followed her and watched her pulling her clothes on. ‘What are you doing?’
She didn’t look up. ‘Mikah, I need to ask you a favor.’
‘Anything, baby, just ask.’
She looked up then, and her eyes were hard, cold, and broken-hearted. ‘I need to get to San Francisco. Now.’
***
Cosima awoke hollow-eyed and drained. When Harpa had hung up on her, she had cried in Arlo’s arms, tried to call her sister back. When eventually they got through to Mikah, he told them he was taking Harpa to San Francisco to confront her mother. Harpa didn’t want to talk to Cosima.
‘I shouldn’t have told her,’ she had fretted, but Arlo shook his head.
‘You didn’t have a choice, darling.’
Cosima hoped her relationship with her sister wasn’t irreparable; that Harpa wouldn’t blame her for not being able to reassure her. But she couldn’t lie – inside she had held that secret with her for a lifetime. She had even, at age eleven, asked her father what he had meant by the ‘Blood isn’t a bond’ statement and he’d told her that she would understand one day.
She had hoped never to find out what it meant but when the reporter – Bree – who had been kind and apologetic – had told her, she knew, for once, her mother wasn’t lying. That she’d been saving this particular piece of information for when it could hurt her daughters the most. A piece of Cosima’s heart turned dark at that moment, with loathing for the narcissist in her mother, the selfish being.
The best revenge is to live well – wasn’t that the saying? Then fuck you, Monica…
Cosima got up and went to find Arlo. He was at his desk and looked up as she came in. He raised his arms, holding them out to her and she went into them, settling on his lap and kissing him.
‘Good morning lover.’
‘Morning, gorgeous,’ he swept a hand over her hair and smiled, his eyes alert and concerned. ‘Are you okay?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. We will get through this.’
His arms tightened around her. ‘At this point, Cos, I don’t think there’s anything you couldn’t get through.’
‘Thank you for saying that, honey. What’s this?’
She glanced down at his desk, frowned when she saw a to-do list for the Grand Opening with ‘Cancel?’ written on it. ‘Absolutely not,’ she said firmly. ‘Today, we are opening our hotel. Nothing more is getting in the way of it. Nothing, Arlo.’
He smiled at her. ‘I agree, honey. Why let your mother win? There will be journalists there.’
‘And I’ll answer any questions they have about the interview honestly.’ She looked at the clock. ‘I’m going to grab a shower then go downstairs to check everything is ready.’
Arlo nodded. ‘Good idea. I’m meeting the shareholders at Tal’s office, and then we’ll bring them here before the ceremony starts.’
Cosima half-smiled. ‘Come join me in the shower first.’
‘Right behind you, sweetheart.’
Arlo waited until Cosima had left the room and quickly dialed Jack’s number. Voicemail. ‘Hey, Jack; hope you’re still coming tonight. Listen, we need to talk, but I don’t want Cos overhearing me so can you call me back in about an hour? Thanks.’
He ended the call then went to join Cosima in the bathroom.
***
Harpa asked for her mother’s room as soon as they reached the hotel. The smug receptionist told her that Monica was expecting her, and giving the simpering woman a death stare, Harpa went to the elevators. She had asked Mikah to stay away from the hotel until she called him and he had graciously acquiesced albeit with a concerned expression on his face.
Monica opened the door without a trace of remorse on her face. ‘Harpa, darling.’
Harpa stalked in, and Monica had barely closed the door when Harpa started talking in a low, angry voice. ‘Is it true?’
Now Monica wore a regretful expression. ‘I’m sorry, darling, yes.’
Harpa knew it, had readied herself for it but it still hurt like hell. After a moment, she spoke again. ‘Then who is my father?’
Monica didn’t answer for a time, settling herself down into her chair, arranging her dress carefully. ‘Iqbal Chowdry.’
Harpa’s knees collapsed, and she sank to the floor. ‘Iqbal Chowdry? Naveen’s father…Naveen, the man, who up until recently, had planned to murder Cosima? Naveen is…’
‘Your half-brother. As Cosima is your half-sister.’
Harpa shook her head. ‘No, Cos is my sister…my sister. You can’t take that away from me, I don’t give a fuck who the sperm donor was, you filthy whore.’
Monica bristled. ‘How dare you…?’
Harpa was incensed. ‘How dare I? How dare I? Who the fuck tells their daughter that her dad isn’t her dad in a god damned tabloid interview? What’s the matter, Mom, running low on cash? Your dealer getting antsy? Your plastic surgeon getting tired of ramming poison into your face? What am I saying? You have enough poison inside you anyway. I hate you, Monica, I hate you for this, I hate you for making Cos’s life a misery because she’s a billion times more loving and beautiful than you’ve ever been. I hate you for cuckolding my Dad. Because Arjun Malhotra was my father, whether he provided the sperm or not.’
Monica’s smile was chilly. ‘Have you finished?’
Harpa shook her head. ‘No. There’s one last thing, and you better listen. I never want to see you or speak to you or even think about you again. Ever. And I’m speaking for Cosima now too. You go for her again, and I’ll be standing right in front of her. I wish it had been the other way around, that Dad had cheated on you, that I had a real mother, someone with an ounce of empathy in her. Actually, I guess I did; I had Cosima. Thank God. And don’t think I won’t use Mikah or Arlo to close major doors on your career. Because I will, God help me, and I know they’ll do it.’
Monica smirked. ‘And you accuse me of being a whore? Do you open your legs for every rich man that crosses your path?’
Harpa’s smile was humorless. ‘People in glass houses, Monica. I mean it…don’t get in contact with either of us ever again and leave our names out of your pathetic interviews. Or I’ll make you sorry.’
She turned and left the room, slamming the door behind her. In the elevator, she sucked in deep breaths. Her anger was a wild, burning thing that would not abate and even when she saw Mikah, she almost growled at him until he put his arms around her
and would not let go. They stayed locked together, out in the middle of the sidewalk, people eyeing them curiously as they moved around them.
Harpa closed her eyes and leaned against Mikah’s solid, warm chest. He stroked her back gently, rhythmically until she felt calmness descend on her. She looked up into his eyes.
‘It’s over, it’s all done. Monica confirmed what she said. I’m not a Malhotra, it seems, I’m a Chowdry.’
Mikah frowned. ‘Isn’t that the name of…?’
‘Yep. Naveen Chowdry is my half-brother.’ She looked at her watch. ‘We have to get on a plane to New Orleans.’
Mikah nodded. ‘Although I think Cos wouldn’t mind if you wanted to give the opening a miss.’
Harpa looked away, and when she spoke, her voice was gravelly. ‘I’m not going to see Cosima. I’m going to see Naveen.’
***
Naveen slowly put down the phone, confused and unsettled. Sabine, naked, fresh from the shower, wandered into the bedroom, towel-drying her hair. She caught his awkward posture, the way he was staring at the screen of his phone. ‘What’s up?’
He looked at her unseeing for a moment then focused. ‘I’m not sure. Mikah Ray just called me and asked me to meet him before the opening.’
Sabine stopped. ‘Who is Mikah Ray?’
‘Harpa Malhotra’s boyfriend. An art dealer from Seattle. I’ve met him a few times – that was before he knew Harpa though.’
‘Did he say what he wants?’
‘Just that he needs to talk to me today. He’s flying into New Orleans in a couple of hours.’
Sabine lost interest and shrugged. She began to dress then stopped. ‘Wait…before the opening? You’re going to the opening of the LaBelle?’
Naveen met her gaze steadily. ‘Yes. I was invited.’
‘Oh.’
Naveen smothered a smile. ‘I would ask you to accompany me but, in light of your history with Arlo Forrester…’
Sabine gave him a weak smile. ‘Plus I had his girlfriend attacked. Probably not the most popular girl with those two.
TORN: A Billionaire Romance Series (Contemporary Romance Novel) Page 20